Lux Margo
by yoshi09
Summary: DHr 7th year. Draco finally catches up to his lineage, and Dark Arts isn’t that bad. His first mission is easy: kill Hermione Granger. But his dark mark is more than he bargained for as it begins to control his most primal, and deadly of instincts.
1. Situations

This fic is in response to: "The Draco & Hermione Archive of Great Fanfic" Fic challenge #3 -**  
Write a story which does **_**not**_** include any of the following:**  
**Hermione getting pregnant, Draco rebelling against his father, Draco and Hermione being Head Boy and Head Girl respectively, a dance at Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione being forced to work together, Draco and Hermione getting stuck somewhere together, a convenient room never seen in the books where they can have secret sex, Draco and Hermione running into each other while they're on vacation, an original character who gets them together, an original character who tries to break them up, an original character who blackmails them, or an original character who plays any other integral part in the story.**  
**And, most importantly: The story must not include any out of character behaviour.**

Summary: Draco finally catches up to his lineage, and Dark Arts isn't that bad. Thing is, his first mission is to kill Hermione Granger. Does not follow the 6th book, takes place in Hogwarts 7th year.

A/n: this is a darkfic. I don't know, I never really wrote one like this before, given my darkfic drabbles have always been Gin N' Tonic centric. It's slow-paced and might get into too much detail, but PLEASE read and review with suggestions. Special thanks to the University of Notre Dame for Latin translations.

- - - - - - -

It wasn't that bad, you know, getting the Dark Mark. Everyone always made a big bloody fucking deal about it, and I'm one to say that I was sorely disappointed. It was nothing- no big ceremony, no haunting hymns I had to memorize or anything that made you feel like you were being accepted in a prestigious, infamous cult. Nor did it happen on the eve my 16th birthday as Defense Against the Dark Arts class had suggested. In fact, I was left clueless the majority of the time that anything "dark" was happening. I was never involved with the Death Eaters at any one point unless you include my father, who was one himself, but he never talked to me about it, and I never thought to ask. Sure, I was curious, but everyone in the family just avoided the topic… Father was never home anyway, he was always dabbling in some business trip that had most likely had to do with the Dark Lord's bidding and/or resurrection, and the most I've ever got to do that had anything to do with Death Eaters 101 was learning Dark Arts from a very young age. To be honest, it really did feel like an extension of Defense Against the Dark Arts, except in reverse- Mum and Auntie Bella always told me (much like in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes) that you must know the enemy as well as you know the wand that omits your spells so you always know their weakness.

It was amusing. At Hogwarts, in the class that was said to teach you to defend yourself from powers of evil only imagined- I'd learn everything I need to know about the dark, "evil" wizards. Whereas at home, which radiated of pureblood, expensive leather books, and strict ancient pacts… I learned about "successful" wizards and witches, respectively. Ironic, really.

I still remember the odd burning sensation that had pitched my left arm when I woke up the morning of my "insurrection." No one that knew me personally was present at this so called "ceremony of the dark pact," and I hadn't realized that the very organization that my father and mother so loyally alleged themselves to were shrouded into such immense secrecy until that very day. That I didn't know much about what I was joining except that I somehow trusted it with my life and felt the need to do whatever was to be done because my father and mother had told me it was right from the beginning. I never felt like the bad guy in my entire life. There was so little known about the Death Eaters, and I heard so many bad things about them that pledging my blood and soul to it was not to me a life sentence, but something I accepted out of sheer curiosity and upbringing. I didn't know anything else. I just knew that somehow I was being trained for this day.

The night of my "rebirth" was attended by wizards (I assume they were) all wearing cloaks of weird silky fabric that looked like shadow draped around their bodies, and hoods that concealed the face and only revealed the upper lip down to the chin. I counted three, but I knew there had to be more but I just couldn't see them. I remember the blood that gushed from my wand tip and somehow I knew it was my own, and the vague rush of some old and promising power through my veins leaving a path of something I couldn't fathom at the time. I'd find out later that this was the first binds to my mission. I remember passing out half way, and waking up back in my bed with such a dull thump of my head I could've sworn I was just drinking the old vodka again, and when I went to the mirror to confirm my thoughts I saw my entire left arm was covered in an odd tattoo. It was freakishly wonderful to behold. Like intertwining, intricate burns in designs that could only be compared to that of something magnificent that nature itself has created.

If it was possible to fall in love with one's arm, then that I did.

Father told me that I was different. I hated it when he said that because more than anything I wanted to be accepted. He told me that there were things I had to do that no one else could, and that I wouldn't understand until I got the Dark Mark. The first thing Mum told me when she saw me the morning following the fateful night of the marking she said that under no circumstances was I to show anyone claiming they were a Death Eater, even my own beloved Auntie Bella, my left arm. She said it was very important. Mum was the only one who knew I had this specific mark. Father himself didn't bother to look since he had once told me when I was very young that the most sacred thing you could own besides your soul is the left arm that bestows the mark- it said worlds about you. I still don't understand.

It seemed like a load of playful bullshit and then it happened. I woke up the night before I had to board Platform 9¾ and realized what my first mission was. I knew it was no mistake, the dream was very vivid, and the rancid burn of my left arm seared as if it was reassurance. I had to kill Hermione Bloody Granger.

- - - - -

I arrived on Platform 9¾ early for various reasons. One, Mum was supposed to go to trial quite early in the morning and plead witness of some sorts with the Ministry in defense of something Father did again that was bound to force him back to Azkaban… as if that would do any good anyway, Father had always preached that Azkaban was mind tricks, and since father had no happiness to give, it never affected him, just bored him to death. '_Your father has spirit. Happiness is an illusion, Draco, remember that. Spirit and will is something that should never be taken away from you,'_ Mum had said the first time Father was sent to the dementor-populated prison. True, I could perfectly well just get to the platform on time by myself, but this would be my final year at Hogwarts, and I knew Mum loved dropping me off for traditional purposes, so I let her do it.

Two, I wanted time to think. The manor was no suitable place to do such deep thinking because it would involve too much influence from my parents and also the silence was deafening and would scatter my thoughts. Besides, I appreciated the change of scenery. I'm from French descent, and therefore am a natural connoisseur. Some people were experts at cooking, others language, and some at tinker work, but for me, I had a thing for traveling and history. I was good at it- flying, Apparition, the works. Portkey creation was a hobby and past time… and history, that was the one thing I surpassed Hermione Granger in without effort.  
Ah yes… Hermione Granger. Reason number three, was Hermione Granger. I'm sure that somehow falls under the category of reason number two, but she's an intelligent witch, I'll give her the honors of her own section.

Honestly, I never wanted to kill her. I never sought need to. I wanted to kill Weasley and Potter, and their Quidditch team because they did more fouls than the Slytherin team and everyone knew that was virtually impossible, but never Granger. I'm not quite sure why, but it never occurred to me that I didn't not because she wasn't worth my time, but because she had that other-worldly influence that I knew only my Mum had. I wanted to get to know the trio's female counterpart, and then I realized she was just like everybody else and was just self-aware of her amazing potential at magical ability. She was the Gryffindor stereotype through and through, and just happened to be "gifted" with a larger mouth and a tendency to annoy more than she realized. Besides, she wouldn't give me the time of day. No, I'm sure I never fancied her. Father must've suspected I had because I noticed he had given her much more grievances than any other Muggleborn, and asked about her at a constant. I told him once to sod off and just marry Granger already, and then noted that was a big mistake after he sent me off to Muggle London, alone, without a wand and expected that I could do well without him if he were to "sod off." I remember laughing because I noticed he left out the "just marry Granger" part. Mum had grown fond of her too. She only had encountered Granger once, but she sensed that she had wonderful magical capability and that was always a bigger interest to her than Pansy's pureblood.

I, for one, was not the least surprised when I found Granger had played with the Dark Arts. One would know that light, _legal_ magic could only hold a talented magic-attuned person's attention for so long, and if one wanted to further their magical bonding, Dark Magic was more promising than anything else. Given, she had done it all unknowingly, Granger would never perform the Dark Arts willingly, but I was keen to notice that she had checked out _Leviathans & Abyssal Remnants_, which was a huge befuddling grimoire disguised as an Ancient Runes text that had nothing to do with the cover. It was, in fact, an encyclopedia of forgotten and not to mention, ancient spells. Most of which derived from dark, forbidden enchantments Merlin thought he eradicated years past his time. I would know- I had read the book when I was in my second year to review for Mum's test during summer. I would kill to figure out what goody-good Granger would do if I were to tell her "alohamora" was an altered version of "aromahola" which was used in the Middle Ages by kinky kings and queens alike to bind their favored slaves to their beds. Or, that the levitation charm she performed in Tranfiguration last year to save her bewitched cupholder from falling was in fact only able to be enforced when one's wand was familiar with Dark Magic. It was a small, fickle thing that no one would pick up- but I did much more than my fair share of reading to know the history of each dark spell. It made me smirk. Who knew she practiced Dark Arts so often? The levitation spell was performed flawlessly.

I was anticipating from the very instant I saw her practice the spell to know how she'd do in a duel against me. I'm not going to brag, but I'm not a bad dueler- I do it as a past time with friends from Durmstrang on holiday, and had practiced the form of dueling since I was able to wield something as dangerous as a wand. Now if you're thinking about the horrible job of a duel I did against Potter in 2nd year, I have to admit I fretted more than necessary. I owled Mum that we might be practicing duels, and she promptly forwarded a reply that told me to act like a complete novice at it, and allow whoever my duelist was the pleasure of defeating me so I don't draw attention to myself. I'll admit though, Potter had bad form, but the Parseltongue bit was extremely impressive, and even if Mum asked me to destroy any duelist I'd come across, the fact he talked to the amateur snake I conjured to just show off to Pansy a little, would be more than enough to tell me to forfeit lest he might open the whole Chamber up to me or something. That's what I had thought then.

I'm getting sidetracked… where was I? Ah right, Granger. Asides from her magical ability that rendered Mum to ask me about her as soon as I sneered in her direction, and her attitude that's less than civilized to me- Father, I noticed also had mentioned once to me (while we were having one of our rows on why he "should just find a nice cozy closet to snog Granger in" since he pestered me about her every time I mentioned anything school related), that he believed she was pretty. I am one to admit defeat here again, I always thought she was cute- the nerdy need to read books all the time, the button-like nose, the sprinkle of freckles from a summer's tan, and the infamous frazzled bush she called her hair, was more than enough proof she was. And not just desirable in the "I-bet-with-all-that-good-air-about-her-she's-probably-a-minx-in-the-bed" kind of way… she was indeed, pretty. Especially at the Yule Ball, she was startlingly so. She was no bombshell like Pansy was, who wore concealment charms to hide her Veela inheritance that no one but the Slytherins knew she had descended from, but Granger was quite pretty. Even after the Yule Ball, everyone had noticed she was no longer just another one of the students- she was a woman, with slight curves, petite figure, and flashing eyes reserved especially for me. I think it looks better anyway like that. If Granger ever batted her eyes at me the way Pansy does, I think I'd Avada Kedavra myself and call it a night- perhaps go square dance with Moaning Myrtle. Hell, I'll be one to say without hesitation, that I'm one of the Slytherins who joke about forcing Granger into submission and doing illicit things to her that would make horny Ron Weasley blush.

Krum told me she knew how to do a decent blow job, but I knew he was lying, because then he started going into detail, and I swear he was getting another hard-on just remembering it. Raunchy curiosity mixed with hormones of a 14-year-old couldn't even escape Granger, I suppose. She was probably going out with Weasley now. Potter was too much of a puss even though he defeated the Dark Lord like, five times, to ask her out, or he might be going out with the Weasley chick, I don't know, who gives a shit? Fact is it's amazing how _Weasley_,who I _still_ don't know where he fits in for a part in the Golden trio (Potter is the hero, Granger was the brains, and Weasley was in no way the brawns), somehow is getting the reward of banging Granger. Shame really, from the looks of the Yule Ball, Weasley had no dance rhythm, like hell he'd have it in bed.

I hadn't realized I was thinking for such a long time until I heard the sharp shrill of the Hogwarts Express signaling it's presence. The platform was bustling with crowds of people, and I was surprised I managed to think throughout. But ah… Just in time… I always had perfect, impeccable timing, because lo and behold who steps onto the platform in their loud, riotous, uncivilized manner as only those of wolf pack upbringing? The Weasleys- accompanied by Harry Potter himself, who was more well-guarded than usual seeing that the news of the Dark Lord's resurrection became known. I raised my posture slightly from my leaning position on the wall closest to the caboose of the train, to glimpse the rest of them. The Weasley chick was clinging on Potter like he was a gold galleon she would never lay her hands on, and they were both surrounded by the rest of the red-headed lot- it looked like the whole pack came, including the alpha male that was Mr. Weasley and the beta female, Mrs. Weasley, with subordinates I've never seen before but still obviously part of the wolf pack, maybe the older sons, and the scavengers that were twins (as if it wasn't enough to just terrorize the earth with their population growth, they had to make duplicates). Hm… but what of the omega, the lowest of them all…?

Ah, there he is Ron Weasley… and, wait… well, well, well, someone's overly protective today. Well, I would be too if my girlfriend was wearing such sparse clothing. Muggle clothing, eh- cut off blue uncomfortable looking fabric that seemed to advertise more than I'm willing to bet she'd give… and of course horny Weasley can't keep his eyes off those calves of hers, but honestly, he doesn't have to be adjoined to her hip. Damn, give Granger room to bloody breathe, wanker! You'll be killing her before I could get to her!

They were all yelling about something, and I wasn't sure if it was about anything good. They looked to be on high shots of stress and it confused me greatly. What got the loyal pack to be all bothered? WHOA!

Suddenly Draco felt an arm slink around his waist in a way that only his fiancée had the expertise of doing.

"Hey Dray…" she whispered in that giggle-hush tone Draco had grown fond of.

"Morning, Love," he replied, his eyes flickering appreciatively down at her, before retracing its steps to the Weasley mob, "Doing without the concealment charms this year?"

Pansy was simply stunning. Her extravagant robes were light weight and exquisite in material, it was obvious she hadn't bothered with school robes. Her Veela side was more obvious than ever with her deep brown eyes in tilted almond shape reminiscent of perhaps Asian ancestry, high cheekbones, and luscious and very kissable lips. She really didn't need it, but as if to further exaggerate her features she added light make up that accentuated every shadow of her face to give her a mysterious, haughty look. She was the epitome of a male's dream.

"Haha," she said with a laugh that was more cackle than anything else. "Of course not… the teachers wouldn't recognize me. Besides, it's _you_ who should be wearing those concealment charms…" she slid a hand dangerously low on his hip, just enough to be a tease without adding vulgarity in public. Out of more habit than anything else, he pulled Pansy into a loose hug against his chest.

"Worried, Love?"

"I'm tired of them LOOKING, Dray," her eyes shifted from side to side suspiciously at a mob of third year girls passing by who threw a quick glance at Draco, and for just one moment Pansy's face seemed to look beastlike and monstrous, courtesy of the Veela inheritance when in high bouts of anger, but was soon erased with its previous beauty. "They _all_ look."

"I'm betrothed to you," he reassured her absently. Draco's fiancée had a fiery temper, but he was accustomed to smoothing her out with petty compliments and such. It was daily routine.

"You always know what to say." She cooed, and placed her left hand on his right cheek, as if to make sure everyone saw the platinum ring with diamond solitaire custom cut into a dragon's eye on her ring finger.

"Shame," Draco continued, placing his hand over the one on his cheek, to bring it down to his lips, "You'll have to remove this ring too, they don't allow married students in the academy," he breathed.

"But we're not married yet," she protested. It was clear Pansy had intended to show off the ring to the Slytherin girls to let it be known that Draco was claimed for good.

"No loopholes, Love." He kissed each of her fingers on her left hand, and skillfully in one smooth movement that left Pansy in utter amazement, removed her ring easily with his mouth, "We're adults now, they can expel us much easier than they could before, and Mum wouldn't enjoy my wife to have a spoiled education. You know how she is, don't you?" Draco asked, the ring clicking teasingly on his teeth with every syllable.

"You don't have to take it back like that! At least let me keep it!" Pansy pouted.

"Get it yourself, Love." He said impishly, and before long, Pansy was kissing him so hard it caused a low guttural laugh out of Draco's masculine figure. He didn't feel in the mood for some tonsil hockey, so he let her have the ring back easily, and then promptly told her to go get changed and find a compartment for the both of them to continue. Pansy did as she was bidden with no hassle at all- she was extremely loyal even though she had a reputation of being the Slytherin slut.

Finally. More time to think about killing the pretty Muggleborn's demise. The killing curse was out of the question, too many people, and just one him. It also didn't help that his target was surrounded by the legion of red hair making it impossible to aim. Sure, he didn't mind "accidentally" killing one of them, but he didn't want security to be raised even further at Hogwarts which might prove a larger adversary than he was already brought with. Then suddenly… the idea struck him.

Draco glanced at the clock in a rush, and smirked. Again, he _always_ had perfect timing.

- - - - - - - - -

A/N: (7/10/2007) ah… so I decided that it would be good to post this fic up when all these HP fans are reading fanfics like mad before the last book and the 5th HP movie comes up and around. Please read and review it makes me very happy. As usual, kudos to my beautiful beta- Holypancake (she talked me out of putting Hermione in shorts so I made it more realistic by putting her in Capri pants).


	2. Part I: Duels and Revelations

A/N: This was originally 15ish pages, but my beta and I decided to divide it into two chapters for sake of length and give the readers time to rest their eyes. Part 2 of this chapter will be out within 3-4 days so during that time I'm hoping to rake up a little more reviews. //smiles// Review please, and thanks so much for the story alerts! They make me happy.

P.S. my beta is probably going to hate me because I removed first scene of this story right before I published it, but I realized it wasn't really needed anyway, so I'm hoping she won't be too mad. if i don't update for awhile... you know why.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Draco Malfoy- and if I did, he'd be tied to my bed so you wouldn't know about it anyway. //wink//

* * *

**Chapter 2  
Part I: Duels and Revelations**

It was quite easy luring the feline away from Granger's probing and overanalyzing eyes since Weasley fodder were keeping her busy. First of all, I know I'm an animal person. It's the one thing no one knows about me except father ever since I rescued an injured owl on the side of The Three Broomsticks and nursed it back to health in secret… he now knows I have a knack for secretly caring for injured pets around the manor. I guess animals can sense it too in a person, since it's probably why it was so easy for me to just smile at the orange cat and before long it was purring and rubbing against my robes.

I picked up the domestic house pet without much effort, and looked at its flat face. Pansy would love this pet, not only did it seem to be a sweetheart, it also was a very rare type of cat bred only in the wizarding world- it would only be fit for a purebred magical cat to be with a pureblood family. Perhaps after I kill Granger, I'll give this precious animal to Pansy as an anniversary gift two weeks from now.

I walked away with the cat, my suitcases and trunk have already been sent to Hogwarts since my house elves always pulled them into the train, naturally, and I didn't have to worry about it. They'd be in my room by nightfall.

I moved down the length of the railway, and took a detour down a separate corridor. Now all I had to do was wait.

* * *

By the time Granger walked around the corner, her cat was already sleeping soundly in my arms. She took her time, enough. I must've been there for an hour, or maybe two, before she finally decided to scout this area for her missing cat. I looked down at my watch and noticed it had only been 27 bloody minutes. No matter. I watched her for a bit, her form small and far seeing that the room I so happened to be in was an empty station down the way, but not too far to discourage her search here. I was about to make my presence known when my plans were foiled, 

"Hermione, you should really start heading off to Hogwarts with Arthur," said someone I couldn't see. I frowned. Honestly, how long must one wait to introduce oneself?

"It's okay, Mrs. Weasley," said Granger in a voice so sweet to the person behind the wall out of my view that it made my insides curl at its meek politeness, "I'll make it in time for the opening ceremonies, at least."

"Look, dear, how about I look for Crookshanks myself, and you run along to Hogwarts. If we find Crookshanks, we'll bring him to you personally at the grounds."

Crookshanks? Horrible name for a cat, in my honest opinion, especially for one of this animal's lineage. It sounded like road kill ran over by the Knight Bus, and then Knight Bus backed up to run over it again. Whatever.

"No, he doesn't trust people that easily. You know how he was at the Burrow…" started Granger.

I nearly snorted at that comment. I had no idea what "the Burrow" was, but I'm quite sure that Crookshanks found a liking to me. I petted the large cat again along his spine, and he purred half-heartedly in his sleep.

"All right, Hermione, we'll search here, but after this, we have to go back. I need to cook lunch, and you'll need to be sent off to Hogwarts!"

From this angle, it was obvious that Granger didn't like the idea at all- she was fidgety,

"Mrs. Weasley, you don't have to help me. I'll be fine. I'm sure there's no Death Eaters around here. All the students left for Hogwarts already. No one knows we're here."

"That's what I'm afraid of," said the older female voice quietly as if to herself.

I couldn't help but smirk, and had to cover my mouth to remind myself not to laugh out loud at the irony. The pause that followed made it obvious that Weasley beta was in a hurry, but didn't want to leave Granger unattended. Good move on her part.

"Okay," Weasley beta finally said, "But make sure to contact Arthur within the hour, or he'll come back from the Ministry in an hour and a half whether you're ready or not."

"All right, Mrs. Weasley," said Granger with a nod. "Thank you again."

"Stay safe, m'dear."

An old, short, woman with flaming red hair appeared from behind the wall and kissed her on the cheek quickly, before disappearing entirely. Granger seemed to be watching her retreating form, because long after Weasley beta had disappeared from my line of vision, she was still standing in the same position.

She looked different. Now that she was alone, without the familiar 50 or so pounds in the form of books gathered in her arms, and without the usual duo flying around her like moths to candlelight… she looked older, straighter- more serene. It was weird seeing her then, as if I was looking at a part of a body instead of the whole picture.

At first, I didn't understand what was so intriguing about Weasley beta that would cause Granger to stand there for so long. Her hair was still the same length as it had been in 1st year, and the bush had mellowed to "thicker than normal," but then again, I couldn't imagine her with thin, fine hair- that was for the rich who cared about self-maintenance. I smiled as I thought of Pansy momentarily before assessing Granger further. The cut-off fabric didn't suit her at all, she looked better in school robes than Muggle clothing… perhaps wizarding attire in general, but the brown "sweatshirt" (Pansy had told me once when we were strolling down a shopping center in downtown London that a thick shirt with long sleeves was called a "sweatshirt") she sported looked nice at least. So was the clip in her hair that gathered some of her frontal waves to the back.

It was then, while I was deciding whether to shock her or just slowly make my appearance, that I noticed something was strange. She was shaking. Not like, shaking as if she was wrecked with spasms, more like, shivering. But she was wearing a bloody sweatshirt and I was close enough now to note that there were no goosebumps on her legs to give away the fact she was cold.

I hadn't noticed I moved from the shadowed cornered I had leaned upon and was close enough now to see the delicate weaves on the back of her sweatshirt. Yes, she was definitely shaking- what the hell? What just happened? Why did she collapse?

She was covering her face and sniffling. Crying. Hermione Granger showing weakness- how absurd.

"Stop," I heard her whisper, "Shut up, Hermione. Stop it now!"

It never struck me that she would be the third-person talker type. Then again, I was learning a lot about Granger that I could've done without. I know I'm about to kill her, but I'm not without a conscience- when I kill her it would be so much easier if she was screaming loathsome foul things and furthering motivation, not depressed. Come on, Granger, you slapped me in third year, at least live up to your reputation of being a Gryffindor queen. Suck it up! Okay, I also realize I'm a Death Eater and shouldn't be worried about such fickle things, but it always bothered me when strong women showed signs of vulnerability.

Mum used to cry every night when father was sent to Azkaban, and that pissed me off because I couldn't do anything- I couldn't even comfort her because she was too proud a woman to admit she was crying, she was the type to make excuses for her flaws- like, loving my father. Or Professor McGonagall in 4th year when I came by her office to ask if it was possible to do any extra credit papers to raise my grade further, I actually found myself five minutes later comforting the foolish woman for whatever reason she was crying. I never bothered to ask, and after that day, I never came by her office again. It was okay for other girls, like Pansy, who was as frail as a rose, or Auntie Bella, who always told me crying was a, "great emotional outlet," (of course while she was sobbing), but never someone like Granger. That was just so… so…. So out of character!

All right, it's decided then.

"Granger!" I said loudly.

Immediately, she stiffened. I strode up out of the shadows and she looked up and around at me. Merlin, she looked so small and weak on the ground.

"Up, Granger."

"Wha….Wha… Crookshanks?" She seemed at a lost for words, "What are you doing here Malfoy? You found Crookshanks?" Then as if she just remembered who I was, she wiped her tears away quickly, "Give back Crookshanks."

Ah yes, Granger. There it is- anger.

"No, I think your cat likes being in my arms."

"You put some sleeping charm on him!" She accused, her eyes flashing with their familiar malice reserved for me.

"Yeah, what if I did?"

"You bastard!" she said angrily, "Give him back!"

"Tsk tsk, Granger," I said slowly, "I said UP."

Immediately, in a sort of painful, crippled way, Granger stood up. Dark Arts had its advantages… like learning how to do simple spells without the use of a wand- Granger's sudden "submission" to me, for example.

Granger's cat had woken up by then, and he stretched fully in my arms, his attention focusing on his mistress. He mewed in recognition, and leapt easily from my arms. I let him, and for a moment, I saw Granger was momentarily relieved.

"Don't let your guard down, Granger." I said, now pulling out my wand, and pointing it lowly at her to keep her standing, "You don't think I'd let you go that easily."

She was obviously attempting to resist whatever I placed her in, but her attempts were futile. Finally, after watching her shake painfully against her invisible constrictions keeping her upright, she said,

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

I laughed. I don't know why, but it seemed appropriate. I almost thought to humor her and suggest rape, but I wanted to get straight down to business. One hour and a half before Weasley alpha would be looking to pick her up, anyway.

Instead of answering her amusing little question, I subjected to something we both understood,

"Come on, you're a brilliant witch, you should be able to fight this off," I easily maneuvered so I was closer to her, and I noted that Crookshanks seemed to have found a dark spot in the corner to sleep in once more, "Think. You're at my mercy, and you know I'm not very patient."

She did some little struggles, and looked at me, if possible, with even more contempt, "This isn't funny."

"Yes it is," I said with a half-smile, "You should know what to do in this situation. They don't teach you it in Defense Against the Dark Arts… but I'm aware that you should know what to do when encountering a childish spell like this."

Granger strained harder than ever against my binds, but to no avail. I was getting impatient now,

"Damn it, Granger," I snapped, "Page 436 of _Leviathans & Abyssal Remnants_. You read that bloody book."

"What're you talking about," she gasped.

"Well, damn. Don't you think it's a bit too late to act like a goody-two-shoes? You want to hex the living daylights out of me, so do it. Page 436- 'Wordless Magic,' ring a bell?"

Suddenly, she was set free, and stumbled onto the ground on all fours unceremoniously.

I smirked, "Good job. Now pull out your wand before I do something not as kind."

She was breathing heavily- obviously she hadn't been practicing wandless magic as much as I thought she would've which made me rather upset, but Granger managed to pull out her wand without much effort.

"That's a good girl, Granger," I said mockingly.

"What's your deal?" she yelled, getting up once again and aiming her wand carefully at me.

"Oh honestly," I heard myself mutter, as I ignored her shallow attempts to threaten me. She was tearing up once more, "Do you always let yourself be an emotional wreck?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" she screamed, and I couldn't hide the grin I set on my face, acknowledging that I knew I was stretching her patience.

"Tsk, Granger, did I hit a nerve? No… I didn't do this… perhaps some petty family issues… you found you're cat so that's not a problem. Maybe Weasley's taking advantage of you?"

"What's it to you?" she said, now tears streamed down her face. Wow, I meant that last statement as a joke.

"Weasley's taking advantage of you?" I said again.

She shot a spell in my direction, and I dodged just in time to counter her next Expelliaramus.

How intriguing. Gryffindor drama. Who would've thought someone had the balls to force the proud woman onto her knees? Sickening that it had to be Weasley though, it'd be much more fun if it had been Potter with the fatalist flaw of control freak fetishes. Granger broke my train of thought once more when she cast Flumen on me, bouncing strongly off my altered Protego I had cast a split second before.

"Granger, such a foul spell. That one isn't even in the Restricted Section. McGonagall would be displeased to know you used a Tranfiguration mediwitch book of hers with intent to kill."

"For your information," she did a swish flick that removed my Protego, "She suggested I read it during 5th year for extra credit- _Cunctor_!"

I stepped to the side as the slowing spell flew past me.

"You should play Wizard's Chess, creates strategy you poorly lack."

That seemed to piss her off because I had just enough time to renew my Protego shield before she tried Flumen again.

"You don't know anything about me!"

"Sure I do," I easily cast an enlarged version of a bubble charm around her and did my infamous vine bind on her that held her in place- plant vines wrapping dangerously around her body and threatening to constrict her at my word. She dare not move, and her breathing shuddered to shallow.

"For one," I said more leisurely than I felt, anticipation welling in my throat, "you commit yourself to work so much you overlook the necessity."

I walked toward her, well aware she couldn't move, my vines still growing and engulfing her body, and the look of discomfort and fear on her face was quite lovely,

"For example, you memorize the spells and know them better than most of the Hogwarts staff, but fail to apply and don't know when to use them. Which is why Potter does so much better than you during Defense Against the Dark Arts and back during Lockheart's dueling club." I stopped neatly in front of her, polishing my wand idly with my sleeve. "Another, is you're preference of tactile and auditory learning. You excel in Charms, Transfiguration and Potions because they are hands on, and History because you sit, listen, and absorb, but it wasn't a surprise when Pansy told me about your drop out in Divination because you needed an imagination. You don't visualize much, you just _do_…"

She looked terrified now with some vines were reaching searchingly up her garments, "Speaking of _doing_, that's why you were crying. Weasley and his uncivilized tactics to turn you on."

"You don't know anything," she choked out. Something about the way she said that gave me a feeling she was a lot more than the books and grades. I smiled grimly.

"Well, then, enough foreplay." I aimed my wand at the roots of the indulgent plant, "_Finito Incantatem_."

My plant seemed to cripple on itself and then disappear entirely, leaving Granger once more on all fours. She had dropped her wand somewhere in between my recital of her minute flaws as the plant crawled on her, and it had rolled near my foot. I kicked it none too enthusiastically in Granger's direction, where it stopped near her right hand.

"Pick up your wand, and let's duel properly," I said.

She got up shakily, her wand gripped tightly in her hand.

"Duel?"

"Yes, I've always wanted to duel you."

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"No. Rhetorical questions never suited you, Granger." I rolled my neck and shoulders respectively, stretching my muscles, "Here's my dueling rules: Dark Arts, in your case, spells, charms, curses, and hexes not taught in school can be used. All strategy accepted, but duel can not be forfeited unless both duelists agree. Duel can not end until one can no longer pick up their wand and use it," I waved my wand slightly to set up barriers around the station. "The dueling grounds is the obvious physical boundary- hallways and anything leading off to separate stations or the like, excluded." I smirked, "I'd say the rules about flying, but we both know your expertise on that, so I won't mention it."

"Sarcasm not appreciated, Malfoy."

"It's settled then, no brooms permitted within this particular dueling ground."

"Who'd fly in such a limited space, anyway?"

"Potter would. If you had strategy, you'd know that you'd use something you're familiar with to defeat your opponent. Hence the first rule- spells not taught in school can be used." I knew she caught the meaning in my words.

"And if I don't agree with these rules?" she asked.

I smiled. I was hoping she'd ask.

"If any of these rules are broken, the effect… will be disastrous. My barriers and dueling ground do not accept cheaters so lightly in their arena. Let's just say stakes are high, and death is likely."

I smirked when she paled.

"I do not play in my duels, so I expect the same in return. But under these… sordid conditions, I'll go easy on you and use pure Dark Arts form. You, Granger, are now at an advantage knowing my limited amount of stratego. So please, give me something to brag about when I say, 'I dueled Hermione Granger and won.'"

She smiled grimly,

"Won? You'll be sorely disappointed, Malfoy."

I held my wand vertically in front of my face, the signal in which duelists do to accept terms in the dueling arrangements. It was a less formal version of bowing, which did the same in the sense that it meant the duel would start as soon as the opposing duelist followed the first duelist's example.

"Challenge accepted then?"

I couldn't stop the small smile that formed on my lips when she returned the signal.

"Never knew you were so strict on rules," she said.

"Only if they're mine," I replied.

* * *

A/N: First of all- Hermione may seem a little out of character. This was done because I'm writing this from a Slytherin and Ravenclaw perspective, so this is kind of how she's incorporated through their eyes. Please tell me if it's bothersome or completely off though as I've always had a love for writing Draco more than Hermione. Part 2 is lots of action. It's the most important chapter so far and a personal favorite. Oh! If you read Rated M fics, please check out my other fic "Dark Pact." It's still D/Hr, but it's a side project so I'll work on it a little less than Lux Margo. Anyway- please let me know if the POV shifts bother you! Thank you, again!  
yoshi09 


	3. Part II: Duels and Revelations

A/N: First of all, shout out to everyone who reviewed //smiles//. They really make my day, and as much as I like the story alerts, reading people's feedback just feels good. Okay, this is Part II of Duels and Revelations and possibly the most important chapter thus far- it really sets the tone for the rest of the story, and I'm not sure how often I'm going to refer back to this chapter, but I can just say it was a little hard to write. I don't read many dueling scenes in fics... in fact, I don't recall ever reading one hahaha, but I hope this is still believable. Yes, I did make up some of these spells and I'm hoping I used their Latin forms right haha. Please review! Love you all.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I do own Draco Malfoy!... in this fanfiction.

* * *

**Chapter 2  
Part II: Duels and Revelations**

"_Expulso_," she shouted. Wow, I hadn't realized she wanted to hurt me that bad. I ducked just in time and watched the spell crash into an abandoned crate with a bemused smile.

"_Nagfara Rumora_," I whisked languidly, the bluish-ice colored spell seemed to be aiming for her center, and she _would_ have dodged it, had it not been for her overlooking the swish-flick I added to it that made the spell separate into five long strands to block her maneuver and encase her waist to constrict her painfully.

"_Petrificus Totalus_," she squealed in a gasp, my binds locked themselves on her, making it more difficult for her to breathe. I blocked her spell… or more absorbed it, with the tip of my wand.

"_Aculeatus_!"

"A stinging spell? Come now Granger, is that the best you have in creativity?" Her spell fell victim to my wand.

"_Impedimenta_!"

Again, I absorbed her spell.

"_C-Confundus_," she all but whispered as my constricting spell firmed its grasp.

My wand tip sucked the orange-hued spell easily.

"Stop playing with me, there is no counter spell for this!" Granger yelled breathily, referring to my curse engulfing her waist.

Tired of her efforts I swished my wand and commanded an Invisus, and all her spells my wand withdrew into its tip back-lashed at her except with strength times ten-fold. I watched her writhe in pain for a few moments before it got boring. "_Finito Alteracion_," I muttered lazily, and the spells stopped working immediately, but not without a last tingling whip reminisce of a very weak Expelliarmus.

"I'll stop playing with you, when you use a spell outside school teaching."

She was sprawled on the ground, her breathing harsh and erratic.

"Granger, I barely touched you, don't be so melodramatic." I kept my wand level. Rule number 5 in Dark Arts 101: Never let your guard down.

"_Agua… ENSIFERUM_!"

I saw water form out of the air molecules in front of me and reform itself into double edged icicles in midair. I just had time to duck before the newborn icicles raced towards my body, but one nicked my shoulder painfully, and I could feel a tear became evident on my robes. I couldn't stop the smirk that presented itself on my lips.

"Finally!" I yelled back, unable to hide how pleased I was, "Something illegal!"

Granger was back on her feet and riled. "It was legalized for Dark wizard catching just a few months ago," she spat.

I chanced a glance at my left arm where the icicle tore it, and noted how much of my mark was actually revealed, then held her gaze once more. "So you noticed."

She gave a small inclination of her head, barely visible.

"Well then, all the more motivation to defeat me, eh, Granger?"

"_Requito_!" she yelled.

I called a small form of dark energy from my wand, and it spurred out easily to meet her half-hearted offensive spell, destroying it halfway before her spell met its mark.

"Deatheater? That's a new low even for you, Malfoy."

"What's it to you with what I do with my life?" I asked her lazily. I gathered dark energy into the edge of my wand with half concentration as she replied.

"I just thought you might have been above the Slytherin stereotype."

Something about the way she said that made me smile, and I had no problem unleashing the shadowed energy into her. It blasted her back about 20 feet. Not bad for only four seconds of recoiling it- had it not been for the bubble charm she cast around her to slow her descent, she would've flew to the wall.

"Now now, Granger, no need to bring our Houses into this. I never attacked your foolish attempts at preaching never breaking the rules when you don't mind the hypocrisy."

"_Conflag_." I heard her mutter, and the space around me rushed into flames.

Ooh. This is new.

"Dark Arts, Granger? You continue to surprise me!" I shouted over the flame. There was no dispelling Conflag without, literally, drowning in the flames- it was much like how water would rush into your lungs except in fire. Much more painful. Conflag would eventually burn itself out, but until then, one was trapped. Well, most would be trapped, but I wasn't most. I whispered a small defensive spell that my aunt taught me before she became busy with the Dark Lord. It was barely a twitch of the lips, and thanks to the flames around me, Granger noticed nothing.

She answered my previous question with a burning spell that was meant to dance along my skin, "_Immolacion_."

Perfect. Granger took the bait.

"That was anything but light magic, Love."

I felt a smirk pull at my lips when she yelled one more fire spell, "_Inferio_."

"Och. Terrible mistake."

My defensive spell took action almost simultaneously as the curse hit my shielding. Three dark spells in a row. Granger has been a naughty girl indeed. The shields became visible and blasted up and out, fire and dark magic burst out so intensely around me in all directions I had to cover my eyes. Sounds of crates opening and popping with pressure filled my ears, and the crackle of flame more prominent as if the fire was upon me. A few seconds passed, and I opened my eyes to see the room even more ruined than before- ashes laid a thin sheet of black everywhere beyond a perfectly clean two foot radius around me, and quelled fire danced lightly on imploded boxes and rubbish in an ironically beautiful way. Two things happened at once.

I recast a defensive spell around myself and felt an extremely rough blow at my waist. It took me a split second to realize that it wasn't a spell, but something physical. Hermione Granger had _tackled_ me. I had a moment to think 'How did she survive?' before I realized that _I _was the one in danger.

"You nearly killed Crookshanks!" she screeched. I was on the ground with Granger on top of me before I could recover myself, and my wand dropped out of my hand. She was positioned in such a way that I was forced to hold her down in her awkward straddling position or else she might 'accidentally' crush some very important family jewels. Her thick hair was matted and horribly tangled, face dirty and sweating with nerves, and her mouth was possibly foaming. In other words, she looked absolutely terrifying.

"Oh, leave it out! Crookshanks is part kneazle and naturally performs his own magic for defense mechanisms." I spat.

Her cat. She nearly died, and she was thinking about her _cat_.

She shifted onto me, as if threatening to grind her knee further in my thigh. It was deliriously close to my personal Malfoy manor, and although I love a bit of pain, this was pushing it. I dug my fingers into the backs of her own thighs to warn her that I was in a position to hurt her too. She seemed to know she was on the upper hand though, because she paid no heed to the fact I was crushing her upper leg.

"What do you have against me anyway, Malfoy?"

Her voice was curiously calm next to the fact she had her wand now pointed to my neck and from my peripheral I could see it was glowing a truesilver blue. Which meant either one of two things: she was extremely angry and her magical energy was being channeled, or, she was calling her own brand of magic into the wand tip for preparation of an offensive spell. I was betting more on the latter than the former.

"Well I'm flattered that you care about what I think, but I don't think we'd work. We both have our differences magically"-she grounded her knee into my thigh-"_and_ psychologically, apparently." I gritted the last out half in pain and half in a last rush of breath.

"I'm not joking. Muggleborns, why do you hate them?"

"Oh you already know the answer, Granger." I chanced a look to my left and saw where my wand had rolled about 2 feet from my grasp, but made the look seem like I was getting frustrated with the pain shooting up in my leg. I half focused on talking, as I willed my wand to return to my hand with dark energy. "I'm an insufferable prejudiced jackass, who just needs a little bit of pink ponies and rainbows to make me get back to the right path that I'm sure you know all about."

She shifted on me and punched me clean in the face, causing me to lose focus and instead make my wand skitter further from me. "Wrong answer," she said angrily, her wand practically stuffed right under my jugular, and the room started to spin.

"Give me the script you want me to memorize and I'll say exactly what you want me to-" I cut short because just then a small spurt of her energy channeled into my veins and felt like liquid flame pouring into my body. It hurt, like hell, but I couldn't show it. I thanked my mother for teaching me early how to handle pain.

"Love," I said, a little more breathless than I intended, "I don't know what you're looking for. Some complicated, idiotic reason whatever the staff at Hogwarts feeds you, as to why the Dark Lord is as he is, and why we follow him. But, I can assure you, that's not it. Some things are much simpler than you think." That was more truth than I thought she'd believe. But she wanted a long answer.

"Then tell me."

For a split second I focused all my concentration on regaining my wand back. But I concentrated too hard because the wand scraped loudly against the ashy pavement and drew Granger's attention momentarily. I took advantage of this and shoved her so she landed on an unceremonious heap, as I made a dive for my wand. Before we knew it, we were back where started, face to face, just this time, more winded and dirty. So Granger did have a dark side, maybe she was a better dueler than I gave her credit for- my mistake. Better end this quickly.

She was frowning deeply, and I gave her a half smile.

"Sorry, Granger, but this is a duel, not a confession."

Granger held her wand steadily at me, but she was visibly shaking everywhere else. She no longer looked scared, just tired. Alert, but tired. It was the type of tired that you get not out of need to sleep but of putting up with so much.

"You are _the_ most pathetic person… I've ever encountered in my whole life."

"The feeling is mutual," I replied nonchalantly, a sardonic smirk gracing my lips.

"You've got to have a reason for doing all this- for kidnapping Crookshanks, for dueling me here, and for skipping the Express yourself."

"_Siccus_," I whispered. The gray smoke formed spell floated toward her like a heavy plague that was unavoidable. She wiped the smoke idly away with a swish of her wand and it fell thickly around her instead. A drying spell never worked well when the target was still able to fight back.

"Do you run from all your problems, Malfoy? Try to blind them out like that choking spell you cast on me?"

"This isn't a counseling session either," I said.

"_Casus Clausula_!"

I dodged her spell with a duck of my head, but met up with her fist again. This woman was pure physical, and it was really starting to piss me off. I grabbed her fist just as it started to recoil, and pulled her close to me, which caught her off guard. I kicked her shin angrily, not to hurt her, but to distract her, and she gave out a sharp yelp as I jerked her wand out of hand and turned her around with her back pressed against my front, my wand pointed at her throat. Her breathing went back to that shallow quality again.

With her so close in range to killing, I can feel the thrum of something larger and bigger than myself, spill out over me that was so unexpected I almost buckled. I didn't think she noticed, because she barely shifted, but I felt the hairs on my left arm which bore the mark raise up almost painfully. Everything seemed to slow down as this overwhelming rushing feeling swam up into my senses and I could barely hear myself think. It was warm, cool, soothing, and if it was possible to taste a feeling, I could've sworn the lilt of bittersweet on my tongue. _Kill_, it was saying.

"I'm going to die today, right?" her small voice said.

I heard laughter and it took a few moments to realize it was my own. _Kill her, Kill her._ My hand was shaking, and I found it increasingly harder by each passing second to hold my wand still. Something was wrong and I was losing my nerve- I had to stop this duel _now_. In the attempt to grab hold of my fading sanity I took her wand I held prisoner and crushed it beneath my foot. There was a momentary hiss of magical static that flew up my leg in protest, before the wand gave way to my heel's efforts altogether. I pushed her away from me, and as if the previous spell that ridden me went with her, it was gone. I felt strangely refreshed.

I noticed that sound was suddenly more prominent and everything felt a little more natural, and knew the wards and shields I cast earlier were lifted. The duel had ended. Hermione Granger could no longer use her wand. In that instant I couldn't remember quite what made me want to move from Granger as fast as possible, it was as if my mind was momentarily wiped. I knew what happened, just can't remember really what I was so worried about. A soft purring brought me out of my reprieve. I looked down and saw Crookshanks rubbing his cheek against the hems of my robes. Oh, right. I had to _kill_ Granger. I looked up and around and found Granger where I shoved her away- on the ground next to the wall. I performed a simple but effective binding spell on her wrists, and she didn't seem to notice, she was too shaken. Near death experiences do that to you, I suppose.

I bent down so Crookshanks could crawl into my arms before striding over to her and sitting next to her. Crookshanks jumped out of my arms to provide a physical but very furry divider between us. I was so lost. I wasn't really feeling like myself, it was as if I lost something but wasn't quite sure what. I turned my head to the girl next to me.

Granger looked at me with those large, probing eyes of hers, that were reminiscent so much of her sunset-furred cat. I knew she didn't know occlumency, but I was sure she was reading every single thought fleeting through my mind.

"Will it hurt?" she asked. So quietly, barely audible in it's cautiousness. It was shaking with fear, but at the same time it seemed to have the soft irony of acceptance at what was to come, whatever my reply would be.

I cupped her chin, lifting it into a comfortable position and surveyed her, ignoring the dirt that ran through her veins, and no longer doing guesswork upon her abilities now that I first hand witnessed she was the best duelist I ever encountered. It was amazing how one fight can change everything about someone. For a moment, she didn't even look like a Gryffindor- her bravery was now gone, a stereotype, was thrown out the window. I was definitely, out of it. I was touching Granger, and I didn't mind.

"I never wanted to kill you," I whispered, my voice sounding strangled even to myself.

"But," she said slowly, and I knew it took every ounce of her willpower not to let the tears that now formed in the wells of her eyes to betray her now carefully even voice, "you still are, aren't you?" It sounded more like a statement.

Instead of answering, I stalled. It was the something I picked up after years of getting in trouble with Mum and running to Auntie Bella in the end.

"You know, if it wasn't for your blood, my Mum would have kidnapped you herself."

"Wha- what?" Granger asked, unsurely.

I let go of her chin, my eyes strayed momentarily from her face, down to her shattered wand before us, and then finally to the binds on her wrists that kept her in place next to me. I noted she was no longer shivering violently.

"Same with my father. Actually, I think he fancied you a little. If Mum was out of the picture, he'd find some loophole to get your intensely magicked blood linked into our line. Mum was stricter about the pureblood only thing, mind you." I said conversely. Hermione was quiet.

"Even after she figured out about your ancestry, I vaguely remember her telling me that it was a shame how all the right powers go into the hands of the wrong people. I know that sounds like an insult, but my mother's too proud to outright compliment, uh, Muggleborn folk." I said awkwardly.

"Do they all look like that?" Granger said. It was so out of place, I almost forgot it was a question.

"Sorry?"

"I mean, your mark. I always thought they'd look like the ones they cast in the sky." she said.

I thought it was a strange thing to ask your enemy, how a representation of what was to kill you looked like. But then again, we were never normal enemies. In fact, it felt like limbo sitting her and talking to her, as if I actually cared about her. I still had to kill her but I was stalling, and I didn't know why. Too many things had happened today- take one problem at a time.

"No. Well, at least mine doesn't. I don't know about everyone else's," I realigned my position next to her, so Crookshanks felt more comfortable lying in between us. I ruffled the cat's ears affectionately while she asked me another question. I noticed that I moved too much when I was confused.

"Can I see it?"

And before I realized what I was doing, I rolled up my left sleeve to show her the ancient burnings engraved into my skin. She wasn't a Death Eater, it shouldn't be anything to worry about. Crookshank's eyes seemed to widen in amazement at the arm that leaned above him, and I let out a chuckle at the incredulous cat, giving it a rub down on his stomach as he purred in blissful triumph. I was wondering why she wasn't saying anything, so I looked up at her, and was surprised when she cocked her head to the side and mouthing something incoherently.

"What?" I asked.

"Does it hurt?" Granger asked, ignoring my question.

"No. Well, I'm sure it did, but not anymore."

She was staring at it again, longer than I had when I was looking at it though the mirror, and it unnerved me. It wasn't a damn book, I didn't know what made her look for so long. I pulled my sleeve back down, but before I could properly arrange the cuffs on my robes, she interrupted my movements,

"Was there more to that?"

I sighed impatiently, "You're more demanding than my fiancée."

"No," she said, either overlooking my words, or simply not caring, "Your arm said something."

"I'm pretty sure they're just intricate designs not meant to be interpreted, Granger," I fingered my wand again, trying to remember why I was keeping her alive for so long.

"'None to break a promise, intercepting,' that's all I was able to read."

"What the bloody hell are you babbling about?"

"I had to study Latin during Ancient Runes since there's some symbols that traced to Latin roots. That's what it looked like was on your arm," she craned her neck around as much as she could against the binds around her wrists would allow as if she could peek into and under my sleeve. I pulled it away from her prying eyes immediately.

"What are you trying to get to?" I was a Slytherin at heart, suspicion was a norm. Besides, it almost seemed like she wanted to help me right as I had told her just earlier I was going to kill her.

"You're going to kill me, right?" she said dismissively, as if it didn't matter to her anymore, her Gryffindor characteristics starting to kick in again. "That arm of yours isn't normal. I don't know how I know, but something tells me it's not a common distinction among the Death Eaters." She pulled back into a more comfortable sitting position after she realized I wasn't going to show her my arm again, "Look. I already accepted that you're going to kill me. I was never scared of death," she said quietly. "Given, there are plenty of things I never did that I wanted to, the least I can do is not to die in vain."

"Wait. What?" Was this Mudblood crazy? "Are you proposing what I think you are? You do realize you're helping a Death Eater!"

"You're not like the rest of them!" she said angrily.

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because you would've killed be by now! You're an idiotic, biased, self-centered, arse, but you're also one of the most intelligent people I've ever met! You have reasons for everything, and I'm sure the reason you went to this level is a better one than most!"

We were silent for some time, and the cat between us seemed unaffected by our row. He actually got up, to crawl onto Granger's outstretched legs. Hermione Granger. Smart, talented, pretty, and ruled by her logic, not her emotions. I really didn't want to kill her. She would probably be the one to solve incurable ailments at St. Mungo's, or find a potion to help Mum's hacking coughs in the middle of the night for all I know. I didn't have a time limit did I? I could kill her whenever, it never said when I had to. Wait? Who cares? Why should I spare her? She knows I'm a Death Eater, and sure she wasn't surprised at all, and yes, she was terrified. What are the chances she WOULDN'T turn me in as soon as we got back to school? She's goody-good, wonder woman against all that is "evil," alongside the famous Potter. She's smart. Granger is fucking smart, and she has something up her sleeve, because no one offers help not expecting anything in return. In the end she'll either turn me in or kill me. We're on opposite sides, she's convinced about something. Then I should kill her. But why can't I kill her? Damn it, why couldn't it have been Weasley for my first target? Or maybe-

"Let me see the rest of it." Her voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation. Fine, I'll play her little game. I'll humor her a bit, see where she's trying to get to, and when I figure out what her motive is, it'll be all the easier to do what I was supposed to do. I got up, shed my robes easily, undid my tie quickly, and then followed after with my shirt. The cold nipped momentarily at me, but I was already numb. I just realized I was half naked in front of my worst enemy so she could read me. That sounded hilarious now that I thought about it. But whatever, I had time to spare. I kneeled again, and got close to her so she could see every part of the mark.

"You can put your robe on the rest of you, I just need to see your left side," she said in what sounded like embarrassment. I smirked. I almost forgot she was capable of having hormones.

"The cold doesn't bother me." I said in reply. It seemed to unnerve her. Yes, squirm, Mudblood, squirm.

After a few minutes though, she said slowly out loud,

"_Nullus fidem fallere. Intercipio corpus aeternus spondeo. Augurium invisus._"

Something about the way she said those words sent a shiver through my body. It was as if my body was replying to her voice, because a whisper of something huge and hot seared inside what was I believe, the depths of my gut, and surged through the rest of me. It wasn't a good feeling. I couldn't help but let out a ragged breath. Granger seemed to notice this.

"You heard these words before?" she asked calmly.

"First time," I said. Okay, I no longer thought she was playing around.

"'_Nullus fidem fallere._' 'None to break a promise.'?"

Again, that uncomfortable feeling that could only be compared to de ja vu or nostalgia swam up inside me. This felt familiar, but I couldn't quite remember when I felt it. She was definitely, not making the words up.

"The next words confuse me," she went on, "I thought it said 'intercepting' or something, but coupled with the next word meaning 'without a soul,' vaguely, it doesn't really make sense. It has other meanings, maybe 'through death,' or…"

"Granger," I barked more than said, humorlessly. It was no longer amusing. I felt extremely uncomfortable, as if someone took a fuzzy rake and was pulling it all along my innards right underneath my skin with every word she said.

"Wait, I almost got this, _'Nullus fidem fallere. Intercip-_'"

"_Silencio._" I said quickly, unable to handle the brush of unseen velvet roll through the inside of my body, pronouncing itself even more. She was quiet. Finally.

I looked at her and a million thoughts ran through my head. They all pointed to one thing. Whatever it was that I was feeling right now, was not normal. I was confused, but at least that much was clear to me- the mark on me had an effect I couldn't control, and I didn't like it. Worst of all, I couldn't go to anyone at the moment who would know, and it's not like sending out owls about your secret death eater life to your mother was the safest thing to do at the moment. Okay. So here's the deal. I won't kill her, not yet. I need her since she's probably the only one who could help me with this later. I got the information of the words. What were they again…?

Unable to think of any other way, I pulled out a scratch of parchment and conjured a quill out of thin air before doing the counterspell on Granger so she was able to talk again. I inhaled sharply as I cut her off whatever she was about to say,

"What did my arm say again?"

"'_Nullus fidem fallere. Intercipio corpus aeternus spondeo. Augurium invisus.'_" She was looking at me weird.

A white heat spread across me again, and I had to stomp my foot to keep in focus. I looked down at the parchment, and was pleased to see that my bewitched quill wrote down every one of her words without missing a beat.

"Thank you."

"What are-"

But before she could finish I knocked her out swiftly with my elbow against her head, "Sorry," I said instinctively, even though I didn't mean it at all, "I'm going to kill you," I continued to say to her unconscious body as I removed her bindings and pulled her out within view of where a wandering wizard may find her, Crookshanks trailing me and not seeming the least bit worried, "But as of now, I need you. So I'm going to use you during school. Without you knowing of course."

I arranged her body in a way so it seemed like she fainted, and was careful to make sure her jacket was on properly so she wouldn't catch cold….Oh, who gives a shit? I got back up and then moved to put my own clothes on.

"Ah, almost forgot," I said aloud, "_Obliviate._" Granger barely shuddered. I looked down at Crookshanks, who was looking at me intently, and I couldn't help but feel like he was accusing me of something, "I didn't kill her." I said to the cat, unsure why I was doing it- the cat wasn't looking at me like that when I was dueling Granger, but somehow me casting a forgetting spell on her had offended the house pet. "Just take care of her. I hope we meet again, Crookshanks, and I hope you like Pansy."

* * *

A/N: I don't think that was _too_ out of character. I put more emphasis on Hermione's dialogue and reactions, so I'm hoping I did Draco right. People are probably wondering why she reacted that way, but you'll probably never know seeing this is from Draco's perspective. But- if you were able to see from third person, it'd've all made sense. Ah...the joys of first person writing. //smirks// Anyway, there's been a lot of static with me and my beta when comparing the differences between Fanon and Canon Draco. We've both noticed that Canon Draco was pretty one-dimensional in books 1-3 and then 4-5 developed a sort of personality shift that showed Draco had emotions and beliefs- book 6 obviously having the most focus on him... but then, at book 7 Draco all of a sudden turned into a one-dimensional hop skip of emotions. We both detested that. So, both Holy Pancake and I are putting our efforts in creating the Draco we both always perceived him as, and unfortunately it's very much more in line with Fanon Draco. There's two types of Fanon Dracos- the coward/confused/comedic-ish Draco that tries to stay in line with Canon, and then there's the popular Fanon Draco which I'm writing with more depth- the sexy, seductive, intelligent and calculating Draco. I've always had the impression that Draco would grow up to be this way, so in this sense, the story will be very AU since the actual books didn't let him grow up as fast as I'd've liked him too. This plot idea was also thought up with plot lines and everything when the 5th book was out and the 6th was still incoming, so it will have trouble following year 6 and 7 of the books.  
I'm sorry it has to be that way, because I really like staying true to the storyline (if you haven't noticed already with me bringing back Lockheart's dueling club and whatnot), but the story would be completely different if I followed the last two books.  
I have a lot more to say but I think I made this author note a little too long. I hope you still keep reading even though Draco is Fanon in character, not Canon. By the way, it's still a fic challenge response.  
yoshi09 


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